The Satyr

Chapter 3

Facing down the Satyr

The rest of the week dragged, the only relief was his nightly communication with Daffydd, though he noticed that Daffydd’s ‘voice’ was sounding more aggressive by Thursday night, and it seemed to have changed slightly, and sometimes there were two ‘voices’ one the Daffydd he was getting to know, the other more arrogant and aggressive.

“I’m going out to a show with Felicity, love. We won't be back until tomorrow. Don’t let Mr Merthyr keep you too late.”

 Mr Merthyr arrived at nine with a small bag. He smiled as he noted that Artur was wearing only a loose tracksuit as he’d suggested.

“Good,” he said as they greeted one another. “I have a chastity belt for you to wear, and a special suit to put on before you see him. It’s tricky fitting this type of belt.” He grinned. “Will you trust me to fit it to you?” 

“Of course, sir.” Artur grinned. “I’m afraid I’m already a little … um … excited though.”

“So I see,” Smiling, the man said, “I’ll remedy that for you.” He snapped his fingers, and Artur gasped as his erection collapsed. “There. The charm is a simple one, and it doesn’t last. Now spread your legs a little, that’s it, and just relax.”

He worked quickly and Artur’s penis vanished into a metal tube, then metal straps secured this to his crotch and a waistband, and finally a moulded cover was fitted that hid all sign of his genitals and a lock secured it all in place.

“As long as that is in place your genitalia are secure and can’t be accessed. Pull your pants up and let’s go. We’ll stop at the house and put you into a full protective suit.” He grimaced. “The satyr emits a powerful aphrodisiac, if you were exposed to it now might put you both in danger of failure.” Mr Merthyr smiled. “The pheromones he releases — even as Daffydd — arouse any man to a level of sexual excitement that is difficult to control. So we wear these suits when entering the place he lives, and he wears a similar suit when out of it. Otherwise we would all be so sexually charged, nothing would get done except …”

The suit was a tight fitting heavy rubber, difficult to pull on even naked, and it fully enclosed him. It included a breather unit that gave him complete separation from the world outside it. Mr Merthyr dressed in an identical suit, Artur noticing that he too wore a chastity belt, and then led the way out. Daffydd’s father explaining that the rubber was impregnated with iron and the chastity belts reinforced with it.

“Satyrs are capable of ‘magic’ and can overcome most barriers, but not anything with iron in it. In these suits you are completely protected from his influence,” he explained. “Most of the time these are not necessary and a lighter suit and chastity belt is sufficient.” 

  Artur found it quite arousing as he followed Mr Merthyr out of the house and a short distance to what appeared to be a cave entrance.

“We call this the grotto, Artur.” His host explained. “It is where those of us affected by the satyr curse are confined during their time of change.” Stopping at the entrance, he opened the iron barred gate. “Daffydd is fully restrained and in the last cage. Do not release his restraints and if you enter the cage take care. He can speak, but at present the satyr is dominant and will try to control you both.”

“Yes, sir.” Artur turned his masked face to the man, adding, “Thank you for allowing me to visit him.”

Entering the grotto, Artur found himself in a short tunnel. This opened into a pleasant circular chamber with a domed roof, a water fountain and benches at intervals round the walls. Four arched ‘false’ doors interspersed the seats. Approaching the third of these, Mr Merthyr slid the stone aside, and waved Artur through, then closed the stone again.  Reaching a second heavy wooden door, he opened it, and indicated Artur must proceed alone. He entered and it shut solidly behind him. Artur turned to discover the back was thick iron plating. and he noticed then that there was no handle on this side. 

Now he faced four barred cages. The first three were empty, but the fourth contained a spread eagled and heavily chained figure, half human and half animal. His pulse quickened as he recognised the heavy chastity pouch covering the creature’s genitals. Moving closer he studied the figure, which, in its turn, was studying him. His friend’s face was as he remembered, but he now boasted curled horns on his temples, the hair on his head thick and curled, and from the waist downwards his body was covered in thick glossy fur. Daffydd’s feet were now cleft hooves, smaller than a bull or cow, but larger than a goat’s. The muscular body gleamed, and the smouldering eyes had vertical pupils, like a goat, but the face was Daffydd’s, and Artur felt a surge of emotion. Emotion entirely unconnected with the erotic sight, but rather a mix of pity, hope, sympathy and sorrow that he could not see how he could help his friend, or change his situation.

“The would be lover. Come to test your nerve, Artur? ” There was a sneer in the voice, but there was a softer, almost inaudible, whisper beneath it. The creature gloated. “Like what I am? Release me and I will show you what sex can be …”

“Daffydd?” Artus moved to the barred door. “Is that really you?”

“Of course it’s Daffydd.” The sneer snapped. The softer, frightened, voice broke through. “No! It’s not me. Artur, listen …” The first voice was back. “Be quiet, Daffydd. You will submit. I will triumph. Look at him. Locked in a chastity belt, sealed into that suit so he can’t …” Daffydd was back. “Artur, be careful … Please, help me, but only if you are truly in love with me …”

“I …” Artur got no further. 

“Ha! Love you? He barely knows you …” The satyr’s voice was triumphant. “I’ll have you both …”

“Shut up!” Artur shouted, suddenly angry at the thing possessing his friend. “Daffydd, I’m here because I like you, as my friend. And because I want to know you much, much better … I’m here as your friend. One prepared to do whatever it needs to help you.”

“Ha! Are you prepared to become like him? Are you prepared to share the curse on his family? To share your body with me as well as him?”

The satyr’s mocking stirred Artur’s temper further. 

“Who the hell do you think you are to torment anyone like this? To steal the life of a man just because some forebear of his did something and got the family cursed?” Artur drew a deep breath. “Now shut up and let me talk to Daffydd.”

“Brave words … boy.” The satyr sneered. “Look around you! This family prospers because of me. This body is a part of my price.”

“Shut up.” Artur snapped, opening the door, he stepped inside the cage. “Daffydd, I’m here because I want to help you, but I can’t do it alone. You are going to have to help me — and I need to understand exactly why you are becoming a satyr, and I need to really, truly, get to know you before we can do much more.”

“Artur … thank you.” Daffydd’s ‘voice’ sounded tired. “He … It gets worse with each Dark of the Moon — the time of change when I have no choice but to be … the satyr’s body … he gets stronger and I get weaker … ask my father about the curse. In a few more years I will be the satyr all the time, and Daffydd will be a memory …”

“Ha! Fat lot his father knows. I can tell you much more …”

“Shut up.” Artur had begun to realise the satyr was full of bluster,  but seemed afraid of something. A little research of the legends had warned him that they were tricksters. Fertility elementals that reputedly were strongest in the Spring time, when animals were mating. They could make flocks and herds either produce offspring, or make them ‘barren’ and they had a reputation for luring youth’s and women into sexual excess. “Daffydd, I will ask him, but tonight I am going to stay with you and attend to whatever you need, and you are going to tell me what you truly want from me if we succeed in releasing you from this curse.”

It was a very long night. Artur was exhausted by the time he stumbled out into the dawn and followed another member of the family back to the house, his mind in turmoil. Twice he’d had to help the restrained satyr relieve itself into a special flask, and give it water. And he probed, fought off the satyr persona and coaxed Daffydd to resist the its dominance. He’d learned that the satyr possessing his friend, nursed a deep distrust, and was afraid of giving up the control it now had — but it also longed for the freedom to leave this grotto, but couldn’t without Daffydd’s, or another human’s, body and was also bound by the curse that it had itself imposed on the family. 

It was plain he needed to know a great deal more about the curse, the family, and needed to really get to know Daffydd. Stripped out of the rubber suit, he stopped Mr Merthyr as he was about to unlock the chastity belt.